When everyone had finished, Kazamir says "Be patient, and be brave, Bland. We will return when we can."
"Shall we make for a livery, and then Morast?" he asks his friends.
"Thank you for everything you've told us. Stay here, and keep your hopes up. We'll learn the truth of the matter."
"We'll see you again tomorrow Bland", Vermundr mentions before the party departs. "And I'll see about getting those restraints loosened."
Vala nods farewell to the beast and offers the guards the same nod as the group passes. Stepping out of the court house, she leads the group to the nearest stable or livery she thinks is likely to have the horses they'll need for the journey.
"I've a terrible feeling about all of this, you know. That creature was far too simple and young to have done any of the stories I've heard, let alone these heinous crimes for which it stands trial. And I'm old enough to have heard a great many, I'll have you know." She shakes her head, "No, I'm afraid there's genuine evil at work here and its left the beast as its convenient scape goat."
"He... It... Whatever... had a strong memory of the eyes in the dark. Something or someone else may have overtaken his senses to make him see that. And he has no memory of the lost time. Split personality or mind control, I think. Unfortunately that means that as much as it seems friendly to us... it may really be dangerous and not know or understand why," Constantin says with an analytical delivery.
Constantin shrugs. "He's a person, made from flesh, with the mind of a child and the strength of an ox. He's scared and alone and maybe not in full control of his faculties," he says gently. "He's someone who needs our help, and can only count on us."
"You are, however, correct that whoever made him could still be at large. Maybe part of a particular cult."
"More specifically, it's a creature known as a golem. They come in all sorts of varieties, though I've never heard of any with an actual mind of its own, child-like or otherwise. Whoever fashioned this one has done something which, to my knowledge, has never been done before."
Vala's tone is plainly colored with wonder and awe as she explains how unique the beast actually is, how unbelievable its existence must be.
Thank you Mr Vermundr-friend. When you go, can you make sure they leave a lantern burning please? Bland asks, somewhat pitifully.
The creature known as the Beast of Lepistadt watches the group ascend the stairs and disappear out of sight.
The first crime the Beast is charged with is the killing of 10 people in Morast, a small hamlet in the Dippelmere Swamp about 8 miles east of Lepidstadt. The road soon gives way to a muddy trail that, at points, is lined with reeds or rocks as makeshift paving stones but despite that the boggy ground makes slow going.
Eventually, the narrow trail leads to the village.
Morast is a miserable collection of 20 or so wattle-and-daub hovels built on stilts above the swamp and connected by soggy wooden boardwalks. The villagers make their living fishing and occasionally bringing in a blood caiman (a variety of crocodilian with a red-scaled head that is native to the north) to eat or sell.
Morast is by far the most provincial of places the group has visited so far. If the greeting at Ravengro was suspicious, here it is bordering on hostile. The group is stared at with open dislike and fear as you ride into town. The people of Morast are short, with mud brown skin and dull black eyes. Occasionally dirty, skinny children come out of various nooks and crannies to gawp, one even picks up a handful of mud to hurl at the group, but it falls well short with a wet splat. The child runs off when you look back, bobbing up and down with laughter.
When buying the horses, the stable master in Lepidstadt told Hazel and Vermundr that the people of Morast interbreed with swamp creatures, whatever that's supposed to mean.
The sun has set when you arrive and the chill of the night starts to seep into you. Winter is coming and out here in the sticks it may hit hardest.
Looking over the village, Kazamir muters to the group:
"It doesn't look like we'll have much time to win them over. SHould we try for an Awe and Authority approach?""
Zed makes sure to keep his hood up. He will catch enough hell from the xenophobic townspeople without revealing his heritage. "Yes, I think that the best approach Kazamir. We don't have the time to get them to trust us. Should I lead?"
"Agreed. But where to start?"
"That seems to be a good place to start. "
A woman stands bringing in washing from a line and catches sight of the group.
The woman looks Kazamir up and down.
Nice dress. she says of his buttoned up frock coat. Real purty. Reckon I'd go to a fancy ball in a dress like that. she seems to find this hilarious and laughs with a horrible liquid cackle.
Constantin just rubs the bridge of his nose when Hazel responds to his commentary about the Beast, sighs, and says nothing.
~~~~~
In the village, Constantin glances about, then when the group encounters the washer-woman, he looks like he's about to say something, then he shuts his mouth and waits for Kaz to talk.
"Hilarious. We are here on behalf of of investigations into the trial of the Beast. We are to gather evidence to present to the court to prove what the creature has done."
Don't know much about that, whitey. she says, eyeing Zed with suspicion. 'Cept for all the folks it kilt. Lazne chased it off and he down there, think he's gettin' ready to go huntin'. So you'd best hike up you're hem and hurry. Heheh.
"And I am sure you would dance so prettily," Kazamir answers coldly and imperiously. He turns on his heel and strides toward Lazne.
"You, there. You are Lazne? We are investigators sent from the Court at Lepistadt with questions regarding the Beast."
A grizzled, middle-aged man with dirty gray hair and skin the color of swamp mud looks up as you approach. He chews on a foul-smelling swamp weed.
What'chu want? he asks, punctuating his question by spitting weed-juice onto the ground. Told them other boys all about it already.
"We have heard those who are so foolish to defend the Beast have come forward, and we wish to make VERY sure that justice is done. We have been appointed by the court to verify what has occurred.
For the sake of Justice, so that the guilty might not escape punishment, tell us, again, everything that you saw and did when the Beast attacked."
Vala pulls her coat up close as she and the others press on toward Lazne, though it's more to fend off the chill of the locals than the sharp evening air.
"Yes, could we please trouble you to tell the tale again? I know it must probably bring on quite a thirst..." Vala extends a skin of wine with one hand, an offer to sweeten the deal.
The slight man approaches Lazne first and the village elder looks at him with a combination of derision and suspicion. But the two women speak then and one is holding a wine skin which he takes greedily.
Alright, I'll tell you watchu wanna know. Seems like that thing gonna get what it deserves in any case. At first the Beast only took lone folk, out at night. Then it got bold. Started ta attack houses, aint nobody was safe!
He spits briefly and continues;
I rememer it like yesterday. We decided we dun had enough, so we set us a trap fer'n Beast. We was all hid up, quiet like, waitin fer the bastard ta show. Just past dark the Beast come stormin' inner town. But this tahm we alls fought back. It was a big bugger! Nine feet if an inch! But I landed bigger caimen than that so after it run off inner water, we chased it in our boats. We follahd it ta the boneyard. And then WHAM!
He laughs long and loud at the memory;
This monster of a caimen surged outta da water! Lazne grins, spitting weed juice once again.
That overgrown lizard sum b*tch dun tore inner the Beast! That bastard was screaming curses you wouldn't hear outta the mouth o' a twopenny whore! Gator dun tore his shoulder clean open, then dragged him unner the water. The Beast's blood tainted the boneyard though, we had ta abandon it and build another. Small price ta pay fer the Beast's death! But once I heard it was still alive I told my story to the authorities, they said it would burn. They bes' burn him good and quick ya hear?! We can't take no more snatching up our peoples!
Vala's eyes narrow in focus as she tries to parse the man's provincial accent and slur, but she notes the bit about the Beast's blood staining the ground plain enough.
"Can you point us to this place where the Beast bled and ruined the land? I take it the ground there is still tainted?"
---
Once the group has moved away from Lazne, Vala offers, "Now, I admit the Beast is quite unique in that it seems to have a mind, but I doubt it's also strange enough to have blood as well. I think that caiman took a bite out of something else."
Constantin messages to Kaz,
Vermundr finds himself nodding in agreement with Valavastra.
"If we could find the beast and capture or kill it, we could use the shape of its maw to prove if our Beast was here or not. Such a wound would have to leave an impressive scar."
Kaz nods to Verndr's comment."Vala, would a golem heal? Or could it be repaired to remove the bite of a blood caiman completely?"
"Master Lazne, please describe the Beast as completely as possible. Every detail.
Just to confirm, did you ever find any of the people that were snatched?
So sorry - can't quite remember - which of your fellow Morastins saw the Beast before that night? I don't remember the name the prosecutor gave me...
If any bodies were recovered, how did they die? What condition were they in?
[ooc] How long ago was this?
"An interesting story, but to convict the beast fully we need solid, indisputable evidence. Some proof would be extremely helpful." If there is any.
Can you point us to this place where the Beast bled and ruined the land?
Some proof would be extremely helpful.
Which of your fellow Morastians...
The Boneyard? Lazne replies. Whatcha mean proof? The proof is I saw it with my own eyes an so did a bunch of other good folks, your other lot seemed to think that was enough. An besides, you got the big bugger in stir doncha?
He stands looking at you, chewing slowly before finally sighing and saying;
I spose some of the boys could ferry you out to the Boneyard in coracles if you want to take a look out there. For a price o’ course. 5 gold each.
"I suppose we could give you the gold, but then we'd have to ask you and everyone else who witnessed the horrible scene to come back to Leipstadt with us to testify before the court." Vala pauses and regards Lazne patiently, "Wouldn't you rather direct us there so we can get out of your hair and so you and your fellows don't have to hassle with the slog to and from the city for an early morning hearing?"
He seems unimpressed.
Reckon I'll be making that trek anyway. Your mates said I gotta come an' say my piece before the Judge. No one else been called from Morast far as I know and they reckoned that would be enough. he shrugs. If you lot think you need more then we'll show you the Boneyard but it's across the swamp an' gonna cost 5 gold apiece. Listen. I ain't a smart man, but I reckon you lot ain't gonna be short a bob or two if you set that monster to burn.
"I think the cause can spare the coin. Lead on."
Lazne calls to some of his fellow hunters and between them help the party into the tiny wood and bark vessels.
Six of the men volunteer to guide the party. They stand in the rear of the coracles and guide them through the swamp waters with practiced ease using twelve foot long poles. Balancing the boat, and avoiding all the various underwater material that could snag the boat is an art in which they are clearly skilled, particularly when it comes to the more heavily armoured members of the party.
After several minutes of traveling through the tangled bogs, a tiny, miserable island rises from the swamp, a tangle of trees covering its dour, reed-choked surface.
Boneyards coming up. Last resting place for most of our folks. Cept the ones that thing took o course, we never found any of em afterwards.
Hundreds of fetishes hang from the trees—simple, roughly humanoid figures made of sticks and bound with twine. Larger fetishes are planted in the ground on various parts of the island, leaning drunkenly in the soft mud.
This is it, folks. the lead boatman says, as they pull up to shore and let the group out. We got some huntin' ta do. We'll be back for y'all in an hour or so.
"It's going to be hell looking for tracks by moonlight", Vermundr grunts as he pulls his boots from the sucking mud. "I don't suppose one of you has a charm that might point us in the right direction?"
Zelda buzzes erratically in agreement.
The island is around five hundred feet long and about as wide. Most of the trees have been cleared to allow for the burial ground and those that remain are stumpy, sickly looking specimens. This is true of the whole island except for one area in the southwest where a large patch of trees and undergrowth remain untouched, possibly because they did not interfere with the grave site. The lights of the swamp village are clearly visible everywhere on the island except through these trees.
North of the trees, but to the west of the island as a whole, the ground is far less boggy and you find the clay-like soil supports your weight quite easily.
At the furthest north point, a huge collection of tree branches and debris are stacked together.
Finally, mostly collected in the centre of the island are the graves themselves, around three dozen or so in total.